


il trillo del diavolo.

by ffomixam



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: 1920s, Character Death, Deal with a Devil, Historical References, Origin Story, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffomixam/pseuds/ffomixam
Summary: "But by the envy of the Devil, death entered the world and they who are in his possession experience it."Caleb Covington, magician, makes a deal he won't soon forget.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	il trillo del diavolo.

**October 31st, 1926,**

**Evening,**

He left the apartment with stride. This was his big night. Performing in front of a group of thousands, it was going to be the greatest yet. He had slaved and worked so hard for this day, outmatching competition year and after year and finally, he had reached his magnum opus. This day was set up for victory. Caleb Covington was _a winner_.

The streets were alive and buzzing. Automobiles and hopped up groups of party-goers littered the streets as Caleb made his way uptown. The full moon stood high and proud, making the streetlights almost needless as it illuminated the path before him. Frankly, Caleb had not even had a sip of alcohol, yet his head was swimming. He was on a high of ecstasy and pleasure, feeding of the people around him. Pointing and smile as he passed them. They were recognising him. And why shouldn’t they? He had worked for it and today was really going to prove it. This was _his day_. And the newspaper articles about him and the people buying them in droves proved it. Even the headlines working hard to prove why this night was so grand;

**HOUDINI DEAD.**

**HARRY HOUDINI DIES AFTER OPERATION.**

**HARRY HOUDINI DIES, MASTER OF MYSTICISM.**

So perhaps he wasn’t the only reason for the sale boosts today but nevertheless, it was bought. And not only that; his greatest enemy, the obstacle to his fame, was finally gone. _Good riddance_ , Caleb thought, smirking as he held the newspaper in a tight clench. Turns out death was the only trap Houdini couldn’t escape. No more _The Great Escapist_ to live up to. This was now the age of Caleb Covington.

“Are you gonna buy that,” a tired-looking flat-capped boy asked him, looking upon him with a raised brow, almost screaming ‘ _you can afford it_ ’. Yes, Caleb had dressed up in his best- high hat and all, and why not? “Sure, why not?” He grinned with his stark white teeth. He could use a memento of this night.

* * *

Sitting in front of his mirror in his dressing room, Caleb Covington had some last thoughts as he prepared the go on stage. He thought back to the dream many nights previous, of how strange and yet real it had been. It was clear as day to him, even now as he sat nearing six months from it. It had had a tumultuous start- his breathing had been constricting as if someone was choking him, but no hands were upon him. He sat up in his bed, starting but still asleep for he saw his sleeping body still in his bed. The door that leads to his parlour room swung upon and a flowing voice called to him. _Caleb_ , it dragged the vowels, making his name sound like the sweetest symphony. _Caleb_ , it repeated and he felt his body move towards it, yet his feet were still. 

He felt his heart leap to his throat at the sight that met him. A glowing light surrounded a man more gorgeous than anyone he had ever seen before. Bare-chested he stood at the heart that centred the room, though the room was cold as ice. Curling blond hair barely reached the man’s shoulder as he looked over Caleb with eyes that displayed a cunning he had never seen in a person before. Caleb was drawn in by the man’s beauty, barely feeling his decent to his hardwood floor, barely feeling his feet move him to the man. Barely noticing the horns that poked coyly through the man’s curls, or the naked wings that rested on his back. “Who are you,” Caleb asked in a whispered breath. The man smirked; “you know who I am.”

Caleb’s heartbeat fiercely against his ribs for he knew exactly who the man was- who this ethereal, unearthly beauty before him was. _Lucifer, the fallen angel._ He was the spitting image of the Le génie du mal by sculpture Guillaume Geefs. _The Genius of Evil_. So striking, so beautiful, as if marble came to life. Caleb stuttered for the first time in his life. Why had he come to me?

The Devil smirked, “you also know why I’m here, _Caleb Covington_.

You have great passion inside you. Raw and unsharpened. You try and you try to no avail against ‘ _your betters_ ’. I too have been in your place. And I too have helped many not unlike yourself. Masters of the unknowns arts and beyond. You too would like the master the elements of which you preside, I know this as do you. I can help you… for a price.”

And how could Caleb say no? The Devil’s tongue was like flowing gold. His beauty beyond compare and his eyes piercing right through Caleb. As the Devil spoke his parting words after the deal was made, Caleb felt his skin prick and tightened around his muscles. “We will see each other again, Caleb Covington, as your final death becomes you, I will greet you with open arms and lead you to my domain.”

Selling your soul was no easy feat and one many came to regret. Caleb rarely regretted anything and this barely made the list. Promising of revenge and eternal glory- how could he pass that up? If it just hadn’t been for his untimely demise that _Satan_ had made no mention of, he could have lived to forgot that night.

* * *

The audience was riveting, alive with applause and joy. Exhilaration flowed through Caleb like never before as the curtains rose and he greeted the crowd with a bow and the best charismatic smile he had to offer. The floorboards hardly made a creak as Caleb worked his magic through the night and across the stage. It was perfection. His assistant was perfect, no flaws, no stubbed toes or accidental spills. No thoughts of the blasted Houdini as Caleb neared the end- neared his penultimate act. _The Disappearance_ , the escape that so many had contested as a field only left to Houdini. He would prove them wrong! It was a certain win- Houdini gone; fame and money well in sights for Caleb Covington. If only he hadn’t forgotten the whispered words of the fallen angel that Caleb had chalked up then to the talks of someone immortal, 

“You live on borrowed time, Caleb. Be aware of your surroundings or it may _crush_ you.”

And _, oh_ , how precise that wording had been. For the heavy mass of iron weight was set well above Caleb before the realisation _hit him_. A snake slithered around the strong cord that held the weight up- it’s hissing almost _teasing him_ , _mocking him_. Caleb went to step back, get a better look at the damned thing but found that his cloak had gone and stuck in the floorboards- a piece of loose wood that wasn’t there before pierced the dark fabric and he looked up in a panic as a _snap_ rung out through the room and people screamed out in horror as the crushing weight fell down upon him.

  
“ _Welcome home, Caleb Covington_ ,” the familiar voice sang in the sudden darkness, “ _welcome to your second beginning_.”

**Author's Note:**

> the title comes from Giuseppe Tartini's violin sonata in g minor also known as the devil's thrill sonata (or ill trillo del diavolo in italian). It is said that the composition is something the Devil played in a dream Tartini had and then recreated.


End file.
